


Meant to Inhale Those Nights

by jublelion



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Touch, Blow Jobs, Choking, Counting Down to Orgasm, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, PWP, Rough Sex, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jublelion/pseuds/jublelion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In my head it went like this:</p><p>He had heard about my powers, and that time I summoned the flying monkeys, and he sought me out. The first time we met, he was as drawn to me as I was to him, but he was afraid of our love, afraid of what it could mean out in the cruel world. We exchanged longing glances across the room, and every time we touched, we felt the fission, bright fireworks exploding in our bellies. Finally, the tension became too much to bear. I was his loyal sidekick, and more, and when we ruled the world he would keep me close and we would be together, and we would make our own rules. When he died, the First visited me in his shape because I was the one he loved most on earth. If I did the things he told me to do, we would be together forever.</p><p>I was so naive. </p><p> </p><p>In which Andrew Wells tells of his relationship with Warren Mears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant to Inhale Those Nights

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was mostly an excuse to write BAD WRONG PWP. THIS IS A VERY UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP. Warren used Andrew, and abused his puppy-like affections for power, in canon. In this fic, I take it further, where he uses that affection for sex, but doesn't treat Andrew with respect or autonomy. BAD BDSM ETIQUETTE. There is not explicit or enthusiastic consent here, and that's not good. 
> 
> That said, there's nothing wrong, per se with the kind of sex Andrew and Warren get to (Warren in canon likes to call his targets "baby" and be called "Daddy", so I ran with it), but more explicit consent and understanding of what's happening is probably needed. 
> 
> Two notes:  
> 1) I tried to have it sound a bit like Andrew's looking-back-and-recounting-a-story voice from his vlogs with the potentials, although MUCH more explicit. 
> 
> 2) This chapter is basically just porn. I'm getting it out of my mixed up files. I will revisit with more plot and feelings, maybe, but probably in chapter 2. Which might be a while coming. SORRY! 
> 
> I can be found at vagueadvances.tumblr.com. Come say hi.

In my head it went like this:

  
He had heard about my powers, and that time I summoned the flying monkeys, and he sought me out. The first time we met, he was as drawn to me as I was to him, but he was afraid of our love, afraid of what it could mean out in the cruel world. We exchanged longing glances across the room, and every time we touched, we felt the fission, bright fireworks exploding in our bellies. Finally, the tension became too much to bear, and he came to me, one night while running from the law. He held me close to his body, and when we made love, it was everything I imagined it could be. I was his loyal sidekick, and when we ruled the world he would keep me close and we would be together, and we would make our own rules. When he died, the First visited me in his shape because I was the one he loved most on earth. If I did the things he told me to do, we would be together forever.

  
I was such a child.

  
It’s been years now, and I’ve had time to think. I’ve been loved, and now I can see what Warren and I were. The reality went more like this:

  
Warren was charismatic. He was brilliant, and knew all of my references. He let me watch Star Wars every week, and we talked about Lord of the Rings, and played Dungeons and Dragons. Well, he let me play D&D with him and Tucker. I was the little brother. Tucker was supposed to have been part of his gang, not me, but Tucker died. He’d told Warren no, I think, and then there was shouting, and a scream, and then Warren was yelling for me to come quick, Tucker’s dead. I don’t know what happened, but I was young, and smitten, and I believed him when Warren said he collapsed. I believed my parents, even though they were sort of…blank when they told me that Tucker had a heart attack, so sad, so young. So Warren couldn’t have Tucker, but he would take me. I wasn’t completely useless, but I needed him, he said, needed Warren to grow my talent and direct my energies.

  
I was young, seventeen, and don’t you remember being seventeen? He promised me the world, riches, fame, girls, power, and of course, I wanted all those things. More, I wanted Warren. He told me we would be like gods. Together. Warren liked having a side kick, and I loved being near him. He was lonely, for his whole life, like me, and he wanted a friend, someone who would love him. I did everything for Warren, picked out girls, cooked food for him, cleaned, baked sticky buns, just like he wanted them, with caramel and pecans. He promised me everything and I gave it to him.

  
It was after Katrina broke up with him because of April that he came to me. He brought a bottle of tequila, and we drank it. We got really drunk, and I sort of… fell into him. I reached over his lap and started stroking his dick through his jeans. I looked at him, and he kind of blearily smiled. I remember his smile was just a little too big, his canines slightly menacing. I loved him, and I wanted him, and so I ignored it, ignored the drop in my stomach. I undid his belt and his buttons and his fly, and he just lifted his hips so I could get his pants off. I leaned in for a kiss, and he pressed down on my head until I realized what he wanted.

  
I knelt in front of him, and bent over, taking his penis into my mouth. I didn’t know what I was doing, and tried to put too much in, and gagged, but he had his hand on the back of my head, and I couldn’t pull off. I swallowed, and breathed deep through my nose, and began to suck, hard, my tongue touching his dick. I put my hand around the base of his cock, so I could pull off a bit. It was surprising, how smooth that skin was. I remember putting my hand around the base of his dick and bobbing my head, like the girls in a porno I saw once. I remember I accidently got teeth, and Warren sucked in his breath and yelled Watch it! I tucked my teeth under my lips and kept going, his hand massaging the back of my neck, holding me down and grabbing at my hair. I continued to flicker my tongue along the ridge of his cock, hearing him moan, and curse. He was breathing heavy, and then grunted, and the grunt became a roaring groan, and hot, salty liquid filled my mouth and hit the back of my throat, and I nearly retched, but swallowed it down. Some still dribbled out the corner of my mouth, and down my chin, as he pushed me off, and sagged down.

  
I wiped off my chin, and lower lip, and not knowing where to put it, wiped that on my pants. My jaw hurt, stiff at the joints, and my lips were swollen. I feel dirty, and a little unsure. This is what I wanted, but… I looked at him uncertainly, and he smiled again, that wicked smile, and wiped a little of his cum off my lip. He moved his hand up my cheek, and then grabbed my chin, hard, in his hand, so that his fingers dug into my cheek.

  
“Don’t tell anyone, slut. If you tell, you won’t be worth anything. It’s our secret.” I nodded, stood up, and staggered to my bed, my face aching where his fingers had been, the salty taste of his cum feeling oddly numb on my tongue.

  
We did that a few more times, although eventually I think he stopped drinking, and started whipping out this white powder. He’d snort a little, and then offer it to me. The first time, I said no, and he laughed, and said that without it I was ugly. Without the powder he wouldn’t let my "faggoty mouth" anywhere near him. So I took it, and it made my brain race and my heart beat in my ears, and everything was a little too much, but I felt strong, and I could be near him. I never got to finish myself in front of him, but had to retreat to the bathroom and furtively jack myself off, fantasizing that it was his hand on my cock, his hand around my throat.

  
The first time we had sex, real sex, was different. We’d snorted a line each, and Warren had done another two. He had just beaten me at MarioKart, and then he looked over at me with the same hungry smile I had gotten when I touched him the first time. I started to go down on him, sliding off the couch and dropping to my knees between his legs. He pulled me up, and said "Wait." He never told me to wait before.

  
He stood up, and pulled me by the arm into the bedroom, and said "Get on the bed. On your back." I scrambled to the bed, unsure of what was going to happen, but anticipation throbbing through me. "Take off your clothes," he said, unbuckling his belt. With shaking hands, I took off my shirt, and made to throw it to the floor, when Warren said "What are you, a slob? Be a good boy, fold it." Ashamed as I am to admit it, I liked being called a boy, and I sprouted goosebumps up my spine. Shaking still, I folded my shirt and set it on the floor. Next I wriggled out of my corduroys, slicking off my socks as my pants came off. I remember watching a British show where the main character tells a sidekick that socks should come off soon, or else you’re just a sad wanker. So off they went, stacked nicely on top of my corduroys, so that I was sitting on the bed, just my underwear, and my semi-hard dick straining against the white cotton.

  
By this point, he was naked, his hard pink cock jutting out from its bed of curly black hair. "Lay back and spread your legs," he said, and I eagerly obeyed. He knelt between my legs, and spread my knees even further. "Warren," I breathed, as he slathered his fingers with lubricant, and touched my ass with them, and started to spread me apart. I had never been touched there, not by another person, and I nearly came apart from the sensation alone. He pushed, and it was not comfortable, but it could have been worse. He laughed at my panting, and said "Relax." He pushed one finger in, and curved it, and he swiped at something that made my eyes roll back. He laughed cruelly, and did it again, and as I moaned, put his hand around my neck, not choking me, but certainly holding me down. Well, if I wasn’t hard by then, just his hand there, the promise of being controlled certainly got me there.

  
I would have arched up, but then he pushed a second finger in and pressed against that spot again, harder, and my hips pressed themselves down into the mattress.

"You like that, you dirty slut? You like being filled by me, don’t you? Filthy boy. You like it when Daddy uses you? You’ll look so pretty with my cock fucking into you like you’re nothing but something to be used by Daddy." Gentle reader, I have to tell you, I nearly came from the mental image alone, let alone what his fingers, now three, were doing, stretching me, fucking into me, and rubbing against my prostate.

  
"Put your hands above your head, boy," he told me, pulling his fingers out of me slowly. Eager to please, and mourning the loss of the sensation, I obeyed, spreading my legs as far as I could, and grabbing the pillow above my head. Warren pulled a condom out of his bedside drawer, ripped the package and slipped it on his cock. 

"Maybe I’ll fuck into that pretty little hole and fill you with my cum. Do you want that, slut?"   Having never considered it before, I nodded my head, but was glad of the condom for this first time. Splintered memories of high school health class and frightening pictures of diseases flickered in my head.

  
"You offered yourself to me so easily, I wonder who else has been here. Have you been such a slut with others?" He grabbed my neck again, tighter this time, and leaned his face closer to mine, so I could have kissed him, if I dared. "Are you a little bitch, slut? Has everyone known this sweet ass, or are you mine?" At a loss, I didn’t know which he wanted me to say, that I was a whore, or that I was his alone. I knew what the real answer was, but in bed, I had read somewhere, the truth isn’t always what you want to say. The confusion must have read on my face, because he tightened his grip on my throat, and whispered into my ear, "Answer me, boy." Deciding that truth was probably good, I whimpered "Yours, yours, I’m all yours. I’ve only ever been yours. Daddy," I threw in, for good measure. He must have liked that, because he stopped clutching my neck, and leaned back to position himself between my legs.

  
Breathing slowly, he pushed, slowly, so slowly, agonizingly slow, into me. I nearly scrambled back from the unfamiliar sensation, but he pressed his other hand against my hips, so I was immobilized, which sent a tiny thrill up my back, and made my cock twitch. "You like that slut? You like opening up for me, feeling my cock in you?" Nodding, because it was true, Reader, the feeling of fullness was amazing, I let out a small moan of pleasure. Taking that as a sign that I was alright, or that he wasn’t going to hurt his plaything, as I now think he must have thought, he thrust in deeper, harder, and he brushed against something that made me gasp out in pleasure, and roll my hips into that sensation. "You like that, baby? You like it when Daddy fucks you?" Warren asked, breathing harder now, small beads of sweat forming at his brow. And because it was true, and I wanted nothing more but for him to keep going, I arched up and moaned "yes, yes, please don’t stop, please don’t stop", feeling all the while like I was finally being put in my place, and it was delicious.

Warren had been looming over me, his arms on either side of my chest, but now he pulled his torso back, so that he was sitting on his heels. "Lift your hips, baby," he told me, and I did, so he could slide his knees under my hips on an incline. He put my feet on his chest, and grabbed my hips and thrust into me, hard, over and over, so that he hit that spot in me every time. I felt the warmth that had been pooling in my lower belly heat into a fire, and I began to moan and thrash and say the most degrading things, egging him on, and begging Warren not to stop, to "please, not ever stop, please, please, please." He leant over and grabbed me by the throat again, which was both unbearably hot, and made me want to be very, very still. He bent down nearer my ear, and whispered "You gonna come, slut?" I nodded, certain that it was true, and that if he moved again, I wouldn’t have the option of not. "Good boy. But first, you’re going to count to 10 for me. Then, after you’re done counting, then you can ask me again if you can come."

This seemed like the worst possible suggestion he could have for me. Wait? Could my brain even figure out which was next, let alone make my mouth shape the numbers? I had to try at least, or Warren would surely punish me. "One," I shuddered out, "two, three." I felt it rise up in me, my legs shaking, my arms barely able to stay still where they were above my head. "Five, six, seven, oh, oh please, oh god, please, eight, nine, ten may I may I may I?" I begged, all feelings of dignity entirely gone in my need to come. Warren looked at me benevolently, and after what felt like an agonizing amount of time, he whispered, low and throaty, "Come."

I cried out as I came in hot spurts over my stomach and chest, some hitting the underside of my chin. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I must have clenched down on Warren, because he yelled out "Christ. Ugh, you’re so tight. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck," and he let out a growl as he shuddered on top of me, and then his body pressed down on mine.

  
I felt exhausted, and happy, and filled with a gooey series of emotions best not discussed. He pulled out of me, removing the condom and tossing it in the trash, and then collapsed down next to me on the bed, still breathing hard. I put my head on his shoulder, and my arm across his chest, and nuzzled into his sweat-sheened skin, pressing a fairly chaste kiss into whatever body part was nearest to my head, I think his upper rib-cage. We lay like that the rest of the night, passed out, but with me curled into his side.


End file.
